


So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings

by sevenlostkeys



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Darillium (Doctor Who), Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, I can't ever write them again, Light Dom/sub, Non-Graphic Smut, Post-Episode: 2015 Xmas The Husbands of River Song, Prompt Fic, Ripped Clothing, Shameless Smut, Singing Towers of Darillium, Spoilers for Episode: 2015 Xmas The Husbands of River Song, Twelfth Doctor Era, Twelve and River are just too much, Verbal Humiliation, godspeed, i can't with these two, i just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27674489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenlostkeys/pseuds/sevenlostkeys
Summary: A short trip goes sideways, and Twelve and River both need to blow off some steam.
Relationships: The Doctor & River Song, The Doctor/River Song, Twelfth Doctor & River Song, Twelfth Doctor/River Song
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings

The TARDIS doors burst open. The Twelfth Doctor slunk in, grasping his left shoulder, velvet jacket seared and ashen. River Song followed close behind, blocking the doorway with her body and expert marksmanship. 

The Doctor winced in pain, propping himself up against the console. 

“Honey, I’ve got this,” River called over her shoulder, still hitting every mark. “Sort that arm out and I’ll drive.” 

He gathered his strength and headed down a corridor to the mini sickbay he had on deck mostly for companions’ sake. Whether he used typical first aid or regeneration energy depended on the severity of the wound. He discarded his jacket so he could assess the damage. It wasn’t too deep. He could hear River running about the console so he did a quick regeneration energy heal. No need for her to know or worry. 

Yet another short trip went sideways. The Doctor had told River they needed to stay put on Darillium but domestic life wasn’t their strong suit. He threw a hoodie on over this torn dress shirt and zipped it halfway up, and walked back into the console room.

River was dialing out a set of coordinates on a touch screen while flipping levers right and left. 

“I really don’t like how you’re flying her right now,” the Doctor muttered.

“That’s what you always say when I’m in control,” she retorted, nonchalant. 

“Just get us home.” He leaned against the railing, trying to temper his emotions. Using regeneration energy made him a little less stable than usual. 

She swayed as the ship shifted course, her dark parachute dress floating behind her. 

“I never thought I’d say this, but I think we should stay put for a while,” the Doctor said.

“Darling, I had that situation well in hand,” River started, trying to shrug off how close it’d actually been. 

“It was too close and you know it,” the Doctor said, pushing off against the railway, pointing at her as he neared her side.

“Wagging a finger in my face,” she laughed. “You’ve not done that in a very long while.” 

“I take no pleasure in putting you in your place, River.” 

“Are you sure about that?” she mused, tipping her head to meet his gaze, complete with furrowed brows. His mouth went agape in frustration. _This impossible woman_. 

He grabbed her wrist, tapping out a message, their secret code. Four taps meant _Do you trust me?_ Three taps meant _No_. Two taps meant _Yes_. 

She returned two taps to his four.

“That’s the funny thing about control,” he whispered in her ear. “The people that think they have it are rarely the ones in actual control.” He broke his grasp and moved to the other end of the console, pulling a particular set of levers that would keep them safely in stasis for a while. 

River shivered, from his whisper and the temperature dropping slightly in the room. She was trying to anticipate his next move, like always. This one was intense but typically sweet, perhaps to make up for the past. But she could feel his inner darkness creeping out as the seconds ticked by and he moved towards her slowly, like a hunter towards its prey. 

She turned so her back was to the console, leaning against it, arms crossed in mock anger.

“And how am I not in control then?” She hoped he’d take the bait.

He raised his eyebrows with a look that read _You really want to do this?_

She arched a brow in return and answered his question with an affirmative glance. 

His hands found her waist, fingertips running over her thick leather belt. He ripped it open at the studded stays and tossed it to the console floor. 

She startled but pressed her heels down to steady herself, chin jutting out in feigned defiance.

His hands had already moved to her tactical belt. 

“You think a gun gives you control?”

“Someti--”

“I’ll tell you when you can speak,” he growled.

Heat rose to her cheeks. Her mind told her she shouldn’t like this as much as she did, but her body was already tense and aching for his touch.

He gently unbuckled her belt, taking great care to put it out of the way safely. He looked at the large leather pouch and undid the stays, pulling out her frayed diary. She still carried it on their short trips, a way of keeping score -- or taking notes for the future. He was the reason she carried this battered book -- and he’d be the reason she’d sacrifice herself in the end. It felt like a knife between his ribs. 

He let the diary fall open in his right palm, his left hand flipping the well-worn pages like a fresh deck of cards. 

“Doctor, you shouldn’t -- our rules…” Her voice sounded so tiny. 

It wasn’t like her to beg. He couldn’t let himself get used to this. But for now…

He snapped the book shut. He was seething. 

“Oh, you think you have control because of all these devious secrets scrawled in this stupid little diary of yours?” 

His biting words effectively broke down any armor she had left. Her bottom lip began to tremble.

He moved towards her, dropping the diary on top of the console with a soft plonk. His right hand grabbed her neck, squeezing gently before he ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. His face nearly touched hers. He smelled of leather, green tea, and lime. 

His right hand ran down her collar bone to her chest, his fingers yanking the zip of her dress hard, visibly weakening the seams. Her breath caught in her throat, eager for him to touch her properly. Instead, he ran both hands down the length of her dress. His left hand dipped beneath the skirt and in between her legs while his right hand spun her around to face away from him. His right hand disappeared under her dress, simultaneously dragging her tights down while bunching the skirt of her dress up.

She gasped. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you, darling...cat got your tongue?” He moved both hands to her hips and pressed into her so she could feel how hard he was. 

“Please, Doctor, I…” 

“Please...what?” he asked, left hand still taunting and teasing. 

She bit her lip, choosing her next words carefully, and the impending sensation of surrendering completely.

“Have me,” she sighed. “I’m all yours, sweetie.” 

Without missing a beat, he pulled her arms up and made her grab the rod of the visualizer. 

“Then you better find something to hang onto,” his voice dark and quiet in her ears. He paused, just for last checks, like right before landing. Four taps. Two taps. “Good girl,” he purred. 

He made quick work of getting his trousers undid and then he was buried deep inside her, her warm body and soft cooing urging him on. He pulled her head back, his right hand full of her hair. His lips ran across her jawline until they met her mouth for a crushing kiss. 

River gasped into the kiss, chest heaving. Her heartbeat was deafening in her ears as her body moved in tandem with his. His left hand snaked around her waist and up to the zippered bust of her dress. His right hand came down to meet it. His fingers ran all over the thin fabric covering her breasts. She arched her back against him. She was close. 

His fingers gripped the sides of the open zip and coaxed the seams apart slightly before ripping the entire seam, freeing her breasts and allowing him to rub her nipples until they pebbled under his thumbs. It was enough. She broke their kiss, moaning in his open mouth. He pushed on, his head dropping to her left shoulder, biting down as he came. 

The familiar beats and bleeps from the TARDIS console brought them back down to reality. The Doctor brought River’s arms back down to the controls, sweeping her up into a tight embrace. 

“Okay?” he asked, his voice soft again. 

“More than okay,” River sighed. “I don’t think I knew how much I needed that.” 

“We,” he corrected. 

She turned her head, dropping a soft kiss on his cheek. 

“Sorry about the dress.” 

“You can take me shopping. I know just the spot in Spitalfields.” She shook off his embrace, pulling her torn tunic together in the front, and started towards the wardrobe to change. “Also next time, warn me if you’re going to unnecessarily use up regeneration energy.” 

He smiled to himself and dialed in a fresh set of coordinates.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone requested dom!Twelve. I do as I'm told.
> 
> The title is a reference to Caroline Polachek's song of the same name.


End file.
